A weighted silence. Finally, Kowalski said, “We’re not going far enough into the Courtyard to reach the creeks. Won’t be for a while.”
Surprised, Monty turned toward his partner. “Why? I thought you and Michael were riding your bicycles along the Courtyard roads. Did you have a problem with the Wolfgard who are guests here?”
“Not with them, no. I’m not an Intuit, but I am a cop. Michael and I both have a feeling that there are other guests in the Courtyard right now, guests no one mentions—at least not to any of us.”
Elders. Even the word made Monty shiver. Gods above and below, had they returned to the Courtyard?
Monty’s mobile phone rang. “Montgomery.” He listened for a minute, then hung up. “That was the captain. He and I are expected at the mayor’s office in thirty minutes.”
“Trouble?” Kowalski asked.
“Only the type and degree are in question.” After a moment, Monty added quietly, “Your idea of adding what we can to the communal pot is a good one. It’s better for everyone if it doesn’t look like we expect the Wolfgard to hunt for us. Better yet if we bring what meat we can to the table.”
Stopped at a red light, Kowalski looked at Monty and nodded.
They didn’t need the words. There had been no need to fill out a DLU form lately, or check the cairn where keys and wallets might be left when nothing else remained of a missing person. But if the terra indigene were squeezed out of eating their usual prey, they would go hunting outside the Courtyard for a different kind of meat.
Jimmy sat at a table in the Stag and Hare, eating a handful of chicken wings and nursing a beer as he eavesdropped on the men in a nearby booth.
“Price of everything is going up,” one man complained. “The only thing staying the same is the paycheck.”
“Price is going up, and the quantity is going down,” his companion said. He lifted half his sandwich, then dropped it on the plate, looking disgusted. “I bought this same lunch special last week, and the sandwich had twice the meat as this one.”
“Know what you mean. I went to the Saucy Plate yesterday. Piece of lasagna smaller than my hand, a few greens and a slice of tomato as the salad, one roll, and one fucking pat of butter. One. Charged me ten dollars. And a second roll with butter is now an extra item.”
“Mayor says he’s working with the governor to keep the lines of transportation open within the Northeast.”
“We need the lines open to the rest of the regions. That’s what we need.”
“They’re open for those who have the money to grease the right palms. Bet the mayor and the governor aren’t feeding their kids watery soup made out of cheap cuts of meat.”
“Bet the fucking Others aren’t going hungry either.”
A moment of uneasy silence. Then the men focused on their meals.
Jimmy looked at the chicken bones on his plate. Didn’t even begin to fill the hole in his belly. And one beer didn’t relax him the way mellow weed did—if he could find a source here in Lakeside. The freaks might growl about anyone enjoying a bit of weed on their property, but CJ wouldn’t let the freaks toss him out for a bit of weed, not when it meant tossing Sandee and the kids out too. With Mama looking on, Lieutenant Crispin James Montgomery would smooth things over, and the brats knew how to play sentimental suckers like Mama and their uncle CJ.
Finding a source of weed would have to wait. Right now, he needed to scout around the Courtyard a little bit and see if he could turn men bitching about food into a business opportunity. Dropping enough money on the table to cover the bill, Jimmy headed for the door.
As he walked out of the Stag and Hare, he realized the blond-haired man who had been sitting at the bar, also nursing a beer, had been watching him in the mirror behind the bar the whole time.
The meeting at the mayor’s office included Acting Mayor Walter Chen, Police Commissioner Raymond Alvarez, and ITF Agent Greg O’Sullivan, as well as Monty and Captain Burke.
“I received a phone call from Governor Hannigan this morning,” Chen said. “Based on the news reports, it sounds like we have some serious shortages of certain foods, and Commissioner Alvarez tells me the increase in break-ins that target butcher shops and small neighborhood grocery stores seems to reflect that. But it’s my opinion, and the governor agrees, that the terra indigene have not curtailed the transport of food to such a degree that food cannot be purchased. Could shops be attempting to create ‘luxury items’ as a way to increase prices? Your thoughts?”
Everyone looked at O’Sullivan, then at Burke, but it was Alvarez who answered. “I sent men to every human farm that supplies food to Lakeside to find out the status of the family and the farm. The savagery of the storms that slammed into the city didn’t last much beyond the city limits, so the farms dealt with minor damage to crops and buildings, but no loss of life among the people or livestock. The cluster of stores that supply the farms reported running low on things like sugar and coffee, and they’re hoping to get resupplied before they run out, but it’s pretty much business as usual for them. Same with the farmers. They’re still bringing meat, dairy, eggs, and produce to market.”
“My impression is animals from the Midwest Region are slower to arrive at cities like Shikago, whose meatpacking plants supply much of the meat for the Northeast Region,” Burke said. “Grain is also arriving in smaller quantities, but those things are crossing regional boundaries. Same with the foods grown in the Southeast Region. The farmers may not be exporting as much out of their region because they’re being encouraged to sell within their region first.”
“One difference in supply and demand may be the number of people who have temporarily swelled the population of Lakeside and other human-controlled cities in the Northeast,” O’Sullivan said. “A lot of people fled from Toland before and after the storm. Some went back to their homes, either permanently or to salvage what they could. Many are looking to find work and settle someplace else. Problem is, there are significantly fewer human-controlled places than there were a month ago. There are two college towns in the Finger Lakes area. Around them are small towns, farms, vineyards and wineries, and wild country. All those places, including the college towns, are semi-isolated now—even more so than they used to be. People can come and go, and goods are delivered to stores. The phones don’t always work beyond the local area—and phone lines that would connect the Finger Lakes area with Toland are brought down with such regularity, the phone company has stopped trying to repair them. But people who have skills that would benefit one of those small towns, or can work at the colleges, would be able to relocate there.” He smiled tightly. “I don’t think there are many people who have tried to resettle in an area controlled by the terra indigene—especially people who aren’t used to such sharp scrutiny.”
“What about the Others in the Courtyard?” Chen asked. “Are they experiencing shortages?”
Monty held himself still, but no one else spoke—because they were waiting for him. “Not everything is as plentiful as it was,” he said carefully. “But that’s because the Lakeside Courtyard has allowed some police officers to purchase goods, including food, at their stores. And the tenants in the apartment buildings the Business Association purchased are also permitted to buy food in the Courtyard.”
“They are trying to feed more people from the same bowl of rice?” Chen said.
“Yes, sir. That was brought to my attention a short while ago.” The lack of criticism for his failure to spot the potential trouble earlier was its own form of censure. “A suggestion has been made that if the humans want to continue eating in the Courtyard in order to interact with the terra indigene, then all the tenants in the apartments should offer part of their weekly meat ration to be used at the coffee shop or the restaurant in the Market Square. That way the humans are helping the Wolves feed all the residents.”